Protector of the Small
by DalekQueen7
Summary: In which Merlin is unexpectedly tiny. Not your typical kid fic. BAMF!Merlin, kid!Merlin, no slash.


**I got bored, then this happened. Story of my life... It starts off a bit slow, but believe me - what I have planned for future chapters will not be slow. *rubs hands together and cackles evilly***

**Ahem. Relevant backstory: Arthur is king and married to Guinevere, magic is still illegal, and the druids have not yet been pardoned.**

* * *

Merlin stumbled up the stairs to the physician's quarters and burst through the doors.

Eyes half-closed, he made his way over to the wall, where he proceeded to rummage clumsily through the contents of Gaius' shelves and cabinets, knocking over colorful vials and bundles of herbs until, with an exclamation of triumph, he held up the object of his search. He quickly downed the bright green headache potion and, grimacing at the taste, turned around.

As the headache receded and his vision cleared, the first thing he noticed was that the room was uncharacteristically dark and still. The fire had burned down into embers, and none of the lamps were lit. Gaius' normally-messy worktable was clean and empty except for a piece of parchment sticking out from under a covered bowl. Merlin made his way over to the table and picked up the note.

"_Merlin," _it read.

"_One of the border towns has been afflicted with a plague of cholera, and I have gone to assist in the treatment. I expect to be gone for at least five days, so I hid some money in your room for meals, but if you need anything or run out of coin I am sure Audrey would be happy to help." _

Merlin shook his head at that and smiled fondly.

After the warlock's last near-death experience, involving a magically ballooned boar the size of a horse and poisonous fumes from a peat bog, Gaius had taken to mother henning him at every opportunity. A blossoming friendship between the physician and the head cook, who informed Gaius whenever she caught Merlin skipping meals, only exacerbated the issue.

"_I apologize for not being able to say farewell in person, but Arthur requested that I leave immediately. Should an emergency occur I have full confidence in your abilities._

"_There is bread in the bowl, and oats in the cupboard. I also left you a new 'book' with the money. Don't do anything foolish._

"_Gaius"_

With some trepidation, Merlin noted the emphasis placed on the word "book." Combined with Gaius' warning, the tome in question was likely either a medical work or a treatise of magical theory.

The last time Gaius went away and left Merlin in charge, a pregnant noble had gone into labor and chaos ensued until a maid took pity on both parties and fetched a midwife. Afterwards, Gaius had taken it upon himself to teach Merlin as much about medicine as possible. When combined with magic, Merlin found that his healing ability often equalled Gaius', but the physician still insisted that his ward learn all about anatomy and non-arcane medical procedures. As a result, Merlin often went into his room to find thick texts on his pillow, and quickly discovered that if he did not read them, Gaius would mysteriously run out of crushed frog brains, or the leech tank would gain several coats of grime.

As if the medical texts were not enough to deal with, Merlin also occasionally opened the loose floorboard compartment under his bed to find a new magical text, sometimes related to healing but more often not.

Both he and the physician had gone down to the treasury one day and discovered a whole host of books on sorcery moulding in a damp corner. Being the less busy of the pair, Gaius had restored and catalogued them and now gave his most interesting findings to Merlin. The last gift had been a history written in Old Tongue by a High Priestess, who described the kingdom when magic was at its peak.

Merlin shook his head, interrupting his musings. _Must be the headache potion distracting me, _he thought, and sat at the table to eat his bread.

After he finished, Merlin plodded sleepily up the stairs into his room and lit a candle with a flick of his fingers. He sunk onto the edge of his cot and sat there for a few minutes before sighing heavily and moving to the floor. There he prised up the loose floorboard and took out a small canvas pouch of gold and a thick book.

Merlin put the two items off to the side, replaced the floorboard and stood, yawning and stretching. He first hid the money bag under the edge of his mattress before sitting cross-legged against the head of his bed with Gaius' discovery.

The book was large, obviously old, and bound in dark-stained, ornately patterned leather. The contents were written in small hand on fine quality vellum, which smelled of must and smoke. It was not written in Old Tongue, which pleased Merlin because he would not have to spend extra time translating.

The first few pages were obviously pasted in after the book was written, and consisted of a list of contents. The first twenty or so items on the list were basic healing spells and theories, but the next section caught Merlin's eye. It was titled "Transformative Enchantments." He flipped through the book until he came to the right page, and began reading.

"_The High Priests and Priestesses of the Old Religion pride themselves in being responsible for many of the greatest magical discoveries ever recorded. Their discovery of the Philosopher's Stone unlocked alchemical answers that had eluded lesser sorcerers for centuries, and many historians credit their order with the spell that binds together the souls of dragons and their Dragonlords. These are their most celebrated accomplishments. _

"_However, some of the Order's lesser-known but equally important discoveries also deserve consideration, specifically its members' proficiency in the art of physical mutation. Only the most powerful and trusted followers of the Old Religion possess the ability to fully change their shape into something else, but all can alter their bodies to some degree. They use these gifts to disguise themselves, heal injuries more quickly, and enhance their bodies' physical abilities and senses. _

"_Although no magic users outside of the Order know their exact methods for transformation, or have come close to equalling their success, here follows a discussion of past experiments into, and the theories and methods behind, physical transformation." _

The section continued for over thirty pages, and the main block of text was encircled by neat notes in various hands and ink colors. As Merlin read further and further in, his eyelids began to droop and the words seemed to jump off the page, swirling around and around in hypnotic patterns.

Just as the candle snuffed itself out in a pool of wax, the thick spell book slipped from limp fingers and landed on the floor with a dull thud.

* * *

Camelot's citizens awoke the next morning and began their routines, unaware of the drama that would later unfold. The sun broke over the horizon in a splash of muted orange, and the immediate rise in temperature forewarned another blisteringly hot Summer day.

Stable boys sleepily walked into their charges' stalls and discovered that they were unexpectedly clean, and a few of the older ones smiled and thought back to the day before, when an entire pitcher of milk had been spilled onto the King's head by a certain manservant. Elsewhere, in the armory, Merlin's fellow manservants walked in to discover the room more organized than it had been in recent memory, their masters' armor shining, and every weapon polished and sharpened. They also smiled and thought back to the milk incident, shaking their heads in fondness.

The castle's residents slowly began their day. Laundry workers joined the growing queue to draw water out of the well, manservants and maidservants traversed the hallways on their way to and from waking their masters and mistresses, and some workers in the kitchen stoked the cookfires while others travelled down to the market to barter for the day's best produce.

Beside the deceased candle and the discarded tome, Merlin lay on his stomach, breathing peacefully until the loud sound of an uncooperative mule braying startled him into wakefulness. He yelped and nearly rolled over the side of his cot, but managed to catch himself.

Still half asleep, the warlock pushed himself onto his elbows and maneuvered so that his back was to his pillow. He rubbed his eyes and yawned, then froze as a strange sensation registered.

Merlin's clothes seemed to have stretched during the night. His shirtsleeves were now pooled around his elbows, and his trousers had slipped off completely and were visible only as a shadowy lump at the end of the bed. The bed also appeared to have grown, and as Merlin looked around his room he discovered that _everything _ appeared to be larger.

He looked down at his hands - his tiny, stumpy-digited hands - and froze again, this time in comprehension. No, his room had not grown; rather, he had shrunk. He now had the body he remembered from his early childhood. The warlock cursed under his breath, then cursed louder when his voice came out high-pitched and birdlike.

Resisting the sudden urge to bang his head against something, Merlin scooted to the edge of his bed and slid off, tripping slightly on the hem of his shirt as he landed. He looked down at the book he had been reading the night before and realized that, somehow, he must have done magic in his sleep and transformed himself into a child.

Merlin plopped himself down beside the book and began scanning the appropriate section for anything that could be helpful. After a quarter hour of this, he sat back and sighed in defeat. The main block of text was all theory, interspersed with anecdotes of sorcerers who had accidentally turned everyone in a village purple, while the notes in the margins were mostly updates and clarifications added by generations of readers. Not a single enchantment or counterspell was explicitly named.

As suddenly as the urge to bang his head had appeared earlier, a rush of emotions - desperation, fear, sadness - filled Merlin and he found himself fighting tears. He furiously rubbed stinging eyes with his fists, but when he felt the strangely tiny appendages again he finally lost the battle.

* * *

Anyone walking into Merlin's room in the minutes following would have been treated to a strange sight: a small, dark-haired child sobbing on the stone floor beside a large book, clad in naught but a man's red shirt and a blue neckerchief, with various flying objects circling his head.

* * *

The sobs gradually diminished into hiccups, and Merlin wiped his face on his sleeve and sniffled.

_Well, that was unexpected_, he thought, and stared through red-rimmed eyes at the chaos around him. Clothes, books, and candles were scattered around the floor, the bedcovers were draped over the desk, which was tipped sideways several feet from its former location, and the pillow was on top of the dresser. The only clear space was a small, perfect circle around Merlin and the spellbook.

Getting up, Merlin considered what had just happened. _Me as a child apparently has more volatile emotions than me as an adult. _He raised an eyebrow and noted his scattered belongings. _And me as a child also apparently has magic control issues. _

He snorted. _Of course it _had _to be me. Not enough that I have to save Arthur practically every other bloody day while still mucking out his stables and washing his dirty socks, I also have to deal with _this _now. Terrific. _

The objects on the floor shifted.

Merlin noticed and closed his eyes, breathing deeply and reciting lists of herbs until he no longer felt the pull of magic. Opening his eyes and deciding that dwelling on annoyances was no longer a safe option, he hiked up his shirt and began rummaging through the clothing on the floor until he found a short-sleeved nightshirt.

Smiling at his genius, Merlin untied the neckerchief clumsily and placed it beside himself, then wriggle out of his previous garb. He slipped the nightshirt over his head and discovered that it was the perfect length, but was far too loose on his skinny frame, so he flourished the neckerchief, rolled it up, and tied it around his waist. He nodded in satisfaction.

* * *

If any guards had been outside Gaius' chambers at this point, they would have been shocked when a diminutive, barefoot child dressed in a strange sort of tunic made his way down the stairs from Merlin's room and through the physician's chambers. A piece of bread flew into the child's hand with wave of his hand and a golden flash of his eyes, and he munched happily on it as he exited the chambers and hopped down the stairs.

One.

At.

A.

Time.

* * *

Merlin gnawed on the bread crust as he made his way to the King's chambers. He had no idea what he was going to do, or how he was going to reverse the spell, or how he was going to explain everything to Arthur and Gwen when he suddenly appeared in their room as a four-year-old, but he did know that doing nothing would only make his situation worse in the end. Better to get the questions over with now, he thought.

Especially before his courage left him and he ran screaming as far as he could from the castle where there was just a _teensie _chance that his friends _might _just _maybe _consider executing him.

A few servants gave the tiny boy strange looks as he walked confidently down the corridor, but no one stopped him. For that Merlin was grateful, as he suspected that such an encounter would result in another emotional and magical outburst. He was already struggling to reign in his terror now that he had no bread crust to distract himself.

Just as he reached the corridor to Arthur's chambers, a guard walking down the corridor noticed Merlin and intercepted him.

"What are you doing here, child?" the man asked kindly as knelt down to Merlin's height and looked appraisingly at the boy's age and makeshift outfit. "This is the hallway to the King's chambers. Surely your master needs you in the kitchen or elsewhere?"

Acting off the top of his head, Merlin put his hands behind his back and began swaying back and forth disarmingly as he had seen children in the market do. He shot the guard a shy, dimpled smile and said, "The King's manservant asked me to tell the Majesties that he is late getting their breakfast, and he said he'd give me a silver piece if I did." Here he made a distressed face. "I really wanted that silver piece. Think of all the sweets I could get! And toys, and games, and…" The guard cut him off with a smile.

"I understand, child. I believe you, and I won't stop you from getting your silver piece." The guard stood up and beckoned Merlin over to the bedchamber door. He unlocked it and pushed it open slightly, then bent down again and whispered, "Now, I must go back to my duties. Make sure when you receive your reward, you go down to the market and eat some candied nuts for me." The guard ruffled Merlin's hair and nudged him through the doorway by the small of his back.

Merlin turned before the guard could leave and said, "Thank you. What's your name?"

The guard cocked his head, and through the helmed slits Merlin could see his eyes crinkle. "My name is Matthias. Now go on, don't want to lose your silver piece," he whispered back, then turned and walked away.

Merlin took a deep breath, closed the door, and turned around to face what would be either his doom, or his salvation.

* * *

**Dramatic, right? I absolutely LOVE kid fics, but this is my first time writing one. **

**I think the whole lisp/speech impediment idea gets old after a while, so I am not going to go there in this story, but do keep in mind that Merlin's voice IS that of a four-year-old, and to keep other people from suspecting him he might occasionally dumb down his vocabulary. **


End file.
